


Nightmares

by Novachipmunk



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill is a jerk as always, Fluff in the second chapter, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6120278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novachipmunk/pseuds/Novachipmunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has painted every star<br/>Each beaming light in an evening sky<br/>From moments I wished I’d kept and<br/>Golden dust that’s not forever</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Albträume](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/178463) by Cecilia Bright (Me). 



> Here it is, my first fanfic on this archive ever! Also, it's my first complete translation, so please bear with me.  
> I'd be very happy and grateful if you could leave a little comment because I want to improve and I can only do so with your help :)  
> Special thanks to my dear friend SiennaSmith on FanFiktion.de because she was so kind to beta-read my fic!

"Hey Dipper, you alright?" According to the glowing pink clock on her bedside table, it was 3:48 in the morning. Mabel sat up sleepily and looked around. She had heard steps, or had those been just a dream? No, they had been definitely real. Although they had been steps that didn’t want to be heard in fear of seeming annoying.

The girl got up and left the attic room she shared with her twin brother who was nowhere to be seen. She found Dipper sitting in the bow window, looking through the stained glass outside. Or at least he pretended to because the glass wasn’t really see-through. Dipper sat in a crouch and he crossed his arms, leaning his head on them.

Did he have nightmares again? Since the opera accident – Mabel had called it the catastrophic day – Dipper had nightmares regularly and almost never slept.

She looked at her brother for a while, as he sat and leaned his forehead against the glass.  
"Everything okay?" Mabel repeated softly. Dipper was startled and took a moment to register that it was only his twin sister.

"I've just had a bad dream, as always. Just go back to sleep, Mabel." His voice sounded strangely hoarse, almost as if he had been crying..? He had never cried because of these dreams, he didn’t cry often at all, so it was the logical conclusion that, whatever he experienced in his sleep, was becoming more violent with each passing night.

"If you want to talk ..." Her words trailed off because Dipper nodded slowly.

"I'm fine, really." One of Mabel's many talents was recognizing lies but she never needed it to sense it when her brother was lying. He was an atrocious liar. He always had been.

"A tea perhaps, or warm milk with honey?" She did her best, but Dipper didn’t seem to care too much.

"Thanks, Mabel. But I don’t want to bother you, it’s fine. I’m fine." At least it sounded honest. And even more, like a damn cry for help. But Mabel knew Dipper wouldn’t talk to her now; if at all, she’d have to wait until it was morning and he had calmed down a bit.

As Mabel snuggled back under her blanket, her hope was that her brother could sleep well at least for the rest of the night. If he'd try, anyway.

 

When Mabel woke up later, it was well past 8 and for a moment, panic rose inside her until she remembered that it was Sunday. A day to rest and relax in the Mystery Shack. And above all, rest and relaxation for the Mystery Twins. The girl was in the best mood as she hopped out of bed, draped a piece of blanket around Waddles who didn’t look as if he wanted to get up just yet, and then noticed that Dipper was already awake. His bed was messy and it hadn’t changed since he got up last night. Had he really spent the night awake, or had he eventually fallen asleep on the window pane?

Still in pajamas, Mabel took two steps at a time and appeared in the kitchen a little later.

"Good morning!" She called, but her voice choked when she noticed that no one was in the room but her. In general, it was very quiet, the usual nagging in the morning that could be heard even in the attic wasn’t audible. Because there was none. However, a half-empty pot of coffee stood on the table. Okay, so they hadn’t decided to emigrate without Mabel or something. If there was still coffee left, Grunkle Stan would come back. But you could never be too sure, after all.

Mabel glanced into the living room, into the gift shop, and she even took a very very short look in the pitch-black cellar. No, no and no again (except for a few spiders perhaps).

Had Grunkle Stan and Dipper set out early, after all? But they wouldn’t take a family trip when only 2/3 of the family was awake ... right?

Of course there was still the possibility that the gnomes had come back and the two had gotten abducted because Mabel still hadn’t agreed to marry Jeff and his gang. That wouldn’t happen in this life and Dipper knew how to defend himself, Stan probably even more so.

Dejected, she trotted up the stairs again and sat down on her bed. Perhaps they had gone to collect firewood. In the middle of summer. For a sudden cold snap. You could never know.

Either way. They had gone without her and nobody had left her a note or - huh? On the bench before the bow window was Dippers notepad. Open. Maybe he had left a message, after all!

With two big steps Mabel was there and grabbed the notepad. She saw the flashlight, which implied that her brother had written until late in the night. But in his barely legible handwriting, there was no sign of a trip or the like.

_He has painted every star_  
Each beaming light in an evening sky  
From moments I wished I’d kept and  
Golden dust that’s not forever 

Oh dear. Had Dipper discovered his poetic side? His nightmare must’ve gotten really bad.

Wait a moment.

Nightmares. Star. _He_.

Either Dipper wanted to be the new Frost or ...

Mabel scowled at the stained glass window.

Of course. These dreams didn’t come from his trauma, and certainly not from his subconsciousness. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want Mabel to know that Bill Cipher wasn’t as untraceable as he’d seemed. Ugh, why hadn’t she noticed it sooner? It was so painstakingly obvious!

Nightmares after they had fought a dream demon? It was reasonable to expect, more so because they hadn’t parted ways peacefully. Bill had sworn his eternal vengeance … or something like that. It was clear that he would come back to take his revenge. Mabel didn’t wonder why she wasn’t surprised at all.

And then a new thought crossed her mind. What if Dipper was not here because Bill had kidnapped him and brought him to the Mindscape? Or to any other place where no one could follow them to save her brother. Could Bill do that without making a deal first? Mabel didn’t think so. Bill was a dream demon. He couldn’t hurt Dipper until he fell asleep and after the first nightmare last night, he probably hadn’t done so. And what was the point in kidnapping Stan, too, but not Mabel? After all, she had been involved in Bill's defeat both times and she had been sound asleep all night! She would have been the perfect target but she was definitely in the Mystery Shack!

Everything would be cleared up soon, Mabel was certain. Nothing bad had happened to either Stan or Dipper. Probably.

But the meaning of those lines on Dipper’s notepad remained unclear. Why had Dipper written that? What did it mean? And most importantly, was it really referring to Bill? If so, why?

Dipper would never write poetry for his sworn enemy. He would never write anything ever to his enemy! The poem was probably supposed to be addressed to Wendy, and he had simply messed up the pronouns in his fatigue. That would be it, right?

And the meaning? That could not be that hard to decipher, could it? After all, there were only a few lines and Mabel was a master of interpretation!

 

When Dipper returned to the Shack, he found his sister surrounded by about 20 pieces of paper with unreadable scribbles and lots of smileys and hearts on them, that were spread all over the attic. First Mabel screamed in horror when she heard his footsteps and then, when she saw her brother, she was on her feet in mere seconds and hugged him till he almost choked.

"Morning, Mabel," he said, patting her on the back a little confused. She took a step back.

"Where were you?" She asked with a clear accusation in her voice. "I woke up and there was no one here! The Shack was empty, Dipper!"

"Stan is out in the woods and takes care of something, and I went to town to get fresh bread."

Alarm bells rang in Mabel’s head. "Outside? Out in the woods?!" She repeated Dippers words, only a few octaves higher and thus difficult to understand. "What if he gets kidnapped?!"

Slowly, Dipper became suspicious. "I think he can take care of himself very well, don’t you think? Is everything ok?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose you're right, I was just worried because none of you left me a note. I'm perfectly fine!" Fortunately she was a much better liar than her brother ... who was just eying the chaos on the floor critically. Oh oh.

"What are you doing with all this paper?" He tried to glance over her shoulder, but Mabel used her two extra centimeters in height to make herself as tall as possible and block his view, then she pushed him back a bit.

With a completely straight face she said: "Bro-Bro, this is a gift and therefore you must not see it." She knew that didn’t make much sense, after all, they both had the same birthday – and it was still a couple of weeks away - and also Mabel had her present finished since May. A gift in between would be a welcome change, wouldn’t it? Mabel made gifts all the time. That was completely normal behavior for her.

"Is that my notepad?" Oops. Dipper walked past her and lifted the block, closed it and then looked at the remaining sheets. "What are you doing?"

Mabel scratched her head embarrassed and bobbed from one leg to the other. "I, um, was analyzing your poem for Wendy. I found it this morning and it’s really good so far, so ... I didn’t know you’re interested in poetry." She smiled at him as widely and as innocently as possible.

Dipper sighed. "First of all," he murmured, gathering the sheets. "There’s nothing to analyze, these are only some lines I had in my mind for a few days now." He pressed Mabel the stack in the hand. "Secondly, I am over Wendy." He put the block in the drawer of his bedside table.

He looked pretty hurt, but that was understandable. Mabel had snooped in his privacy. She lowered her head.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It’s alright, but stay away from my notes in the future, please." Dipper smiled encouragingly. "How does breakfast sound to you?"

 

For the rest of the day Mabel was worried about her brother’s strange behavior. First, these dreams that seemed to bother him so much, then this strange poem or whatever it was, and now his weird reaction. He should have been used to Mabel putting her nose into matters that didn’t concern her. She had been doing that since kindergarten, a habit that had never been appreciated by their educators. It was nothing new, but today it seemed to bother him to no end.

Maybe he had a bad day, that was possible, yes … but on a Sunday? On Sundays, people were supposed to be in a good mood! 

Mabel sat on her bed, the stack of sheets in her hands again, and absentmindedly leaned against Waddles, who now and then tried to grab a corner of the paper. She thought of Dipper, who sat down in the living room and watched cartoons.

"It doesn’t make sense", she mused aloud, addressed to no one in particular. Why would her brother be over Wendy from one second to the other? Mabel got over her summer romances very quickly, okay, but Wendy and Dipper? And for whom else would Dipper write something that sounded like the beginning of a romantic poem? He would, if at all, only write something for someone he liked. Someone he liked very, very much. And who was there if not Wendy?

Maybe the reversed pronouns hadn’t been put quite so accidentally, as intended. What if Dipper had a new crush? One who was a boy? Not that it would bother her. Whatever made him happy. And at best, kept him from the nightmares.

Mabel wanted to know who it was, though, because she knew one thing for sure: Something was going on here and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. While working in the shack or hunting monsters - or rather, starting a fight with them and then fleeing - they did not necessarily have much contact with their peers and Mabel couldn’t think of one person Dipper could have showed signs of interest for. Would he tell her sometime? Probably. But as long as he stayed up half the night and was tortured by nightmares for the rest of it, he would certainly not talk to her. He was much too tense for that. Mabel had to take care of it, for the good of all and especially Dippers.

 

So she waited until night fell.

Dipper had not spoken much at dinner and you could tell his weariness was slowly getting to him, because even to Mabel's "Good night, Bro-Bro" he responded extremely irritated. She pretended to be asleep for a while, as she realized that he was in no mood for nightly conversations. Usually, they were able to talk about their problems the best before going to sleep. Today there hung leaden silence over the dark room.

Mabel stared at the ceiling, trying to fight her own fatigue and suppress a yawn after another. If she really wanted to do this, then she had to wait until her brother was asleep. It was the only way she could think of right now and it had to work. It simply had to!

After a while - Dipper had probably waited until his sister was asleep - she heard him turning on a flashlight and then the scratching of pencil on paper. Did he work on the poem? Perhaps a particular name appeared on it? Mabel sighed inwardly.

This could last all night if Dipper refused to sleep. Mabel couldn’t lose any more time now.  
She closed her eyes, straightened her shoulders and kept repeating one thought in her mind, like a mantra.

 

_Bill, I need to talk to you._

 

The dream was peaceful; a meadow with cherry trees and grazing horses - including a few unicorns - and fluffy sheep. A soft breeze brushed through the treetops, somewhere in the distance the rushing of a river.

Mabel sat in the grass, leaning against one of the trees, and looked calmly into the bright blue sky. Her dream-me had completely forgotten its plan and reveled in the beauty of this place, at least it did until…

**"Shooting Star, whom do I owe the honor?"** Bill Cipher appeared in her vision, bowed, and twirled his cane in his hand slowly. **"You missed me, didn’t ya? Come one, admit it!"** With his appearance, the color faded from paradise.

Mabel became aware that they were in a dream at once, even more so, in the Mindscape. She jumped up and glared at the Dream Demon.

"You!" She shouted and pointed at him. Behind her closed the door to the meadow, leaving the two in a pink wallpapered hallway.

**"Trying so hard to make a dream you like and that’s all I get in return. I remembered you being more grateful, Star."** Bill crossed his arms and crossed his legs. He leaned back and waited for Mabel's reaction.

She ignored his words and kept shouting, "Leave Dipper alone!"

Bill smirked. **"What did I do to him this time?**

"Oh, you know what you did! Are you trying to prevent him from sleeping, so he’ll make another deal with you? That won’t work, you hear me!"

**"Woah, Shooting Star. Calm down for a sec!"** The demon straightened his back and circled the cane again. **"I’m not trying anything."**

"Where do his nightmares come from, then?" Mabel was about to give him a lesson with the hamster ball. Bill should stop playing when he realized she didn’t buy it! On the other hand, he looked plain confused right now.

**"Pinetree has nightmares?"** Bill looked downright shocked. **"As much as it pains me to admit it, I have nothing to do with it. He probably caught them on his own."**

"Wait." Mabel took a step to the side and started to walk up and down the hallway. "You’re not giving him nightmares?!"

**"Nope, sorry, kid. Haven’t been in his head since our deal. Believe it or not, I have better things to do than spy on you day and night. Pinetree has no intention to give his precious journal to me, so I take care of my own business until the right time has come."** Bill followed Mabel with his gaze. **"Could you stop doing that, I’m getting dizzy!”**

Mabel's mind raced. If she could believe Bill and he had nothing to do with Dippers nightmares, then the whole thing was pointless. But where did these nightmares come from if not from Bill, and how could they be so terrible then? There were no other dream demons with which Dipper had forfeited, and he had never had such nightmares alone.

She sat down on the carpet and tried to put her thoughts in order.

**"If we’re done here, I’ll be on my way then, Shooting Star. If you-"**

Mabel was pale and Bill froze in his motion. He looked as if he was honestly worried that Mabel’s mind just broke. (What, as far as he knew, wasn’t possible without his aid.) In her head, the pieces fell together, slowly but surely. 

Gold dust, she thought slowly. Gold. Oh oh.

She looked at Bill, who seriously seemed to put his decision to come here in question. **"Have you just had an epiphany, Shooting Star?"** He teased, but Mabel stared at him still and was unable to answer.

_Dipper ... is in love ... with Bill._

Something in her head stopped working. She blinked twice to let the realization sink in. No wonder why he had reacted to the poem like that. And the nightmares ... the subconscious mind processes thoughts one has suppressed over the day. There weren’t nightmares. Presumably he had dreamed about Bill. That’s why he had been jazzed like this. He just didn’t want to admit it.

And last night ... had he finally admitted his feelings to himself? Therefore the tears. Therefore the poem. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? In a very strange way, it even made sense. In a very, very strange way.

Mabel was about to speak, but then Bill broke into peals of laughter.

Oh. Right. He could read her thoughts in the Mindscape. He had heard everything.

And now he was barely holding himself together. His laughter echoed through the hallway and everything that this scene lacked was just that he threw himself on the ground and pounded his fists on the carpet. But that didn’t happen. He remained in mid-air, shaking with laughter. In between, he strove for words, but they were swallowed up by the next wave. It took a few minutes until he had calmed down enough to form a coherent sentence.

**"This is brilliant, Shooting Star. I can’t! How did you get that idea?!"** And then he began to laugh again. Eventually, he wiped the last tear from his eye and seemed to take a deep breath. **"Seriously, though. He can forget that. You two are truly some first class entertainment, but that’s what it is. I am still a demon."**  
  
"Don’t tell that to me." Mabel stood up and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. She didn’t see Bill nervously rubbing his wrist and closing his eye for a moment. "Okay so … I don’t want to make this even more embarrassing ... so I guess I should wake up now." She didn’t wait for an answer, but gave Bill a rather puzzled look when he didn’t try to prevent her from doing so. Mabel pinched herself in the arm and awoke startled in her bed. She let her gaze rest on the wall for a moment until it had gotten used to the darkness. Then she turned around and saw that Dipper had fallen asleep over his notebook.

Mabel smiled her little brother encouragingly, but with a trace of sadness in her eyes, and then wished him in thought a peaceful sleep at least for the rest of the night.

 

At the same time, in Dippers dream appeared a Dream Demon he knew very well.

**"Hey, Pinetree. You and me gotta talk. "**


End file.
